


This is War

by Tibbitoo



Category: Percy Jackson and the Olympians - Rick Riordan
Genre: Angst, Book 5: The Last Olympian, Gen, Mentions of Death, Missing Scene, POV Second Person, Paul watches Percy and thinks of war and heroism, Paul's POV during the second titan war, Paul's pov, Pretty mild though, Second Titan War, Titan War, Violence, War, alternate POV, paul blofis - Freeform, percy jackson - Freeform, some violence but it is kept breif
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-17
Updated: 2018-01-17
Packaged: 2019-03-05 20:27:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,051
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13395621
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tibbitoo/pseuds/Tibbitoo
Summary: Because even though the movies get it all wrong, Paul Blofis knows. War is war, and seeing those demigods fighting for their lives, seeing the fallen on the ground, made him finally understand. This wasn't a dream, but a cruel reality where Good and Evil clashed in a bloody battle. This wasn't a book where Good always won. This was a real war. It was reality. His stepson's reality.





	This is War

**Author's Note:**

> This was originally posted on my [Fanficiton.net account](https://www.fanfiction.net/u/2795433/TibbiToo)  
> years ago, so I decided to edit it and repost it here :) It's so hard to look at old stuff and not think _what was I thinking???_ Still, I liked how this turned out. Thank you for reading, and please leave kudos and comments :)
> 
> This takes place during the Titan War in TLO when Paul and Sally wake up. The ending references Lost Hero and Son of Neptune.

You never truly understood war until you saw it. You always thought of adults, risking their lives for the greater good or some emotion-evoking cause. You've studied it enough to know. You’ve taken college courses, read literature about it. If anything, you know more than the average person.

It’s so different than what you expected.

 _War_. It seems so distant and conceptual, and you realize how truly desensitized you feel to the word. It’s an abstract concept with few concrete strings tied to it. You argue with yourself that you still feel deep sympathy for those risking their lives for the freedom and safety of their country, their _families_ , praying that their loved ones will return home. But you've never experienced it. You’re safe in your home, surrounded by people as unknowing as you.

 _War_ , you muse, _such a reckless thing—devoid of love and peace._ But that was before you knew.

Before you knew of the Greek gods.

Before you knew of the Titan War.

Before you knew that your stepson was a demigod.

Before you knew he was born to be the savior in a war. (Or the destroyer, but you don’t let your mind linger on that).

So when you woke in the midst of one, _the_ one, a war not only fighting for America's safety, but for the world's survival, you knew you'd been wrong all this time. War wasn't just going to battle. War wasn't just about victory. It wasn't about conquering.

War was _passion_. It was _love_. It was _loyalty_. It was _family_.

The battle against Good and Evil is a common theme throughout your literature books, but your books make it so _easy_. So _simple._ So….  
Glamorous.

Yes, you decide, for you have decided that movies and literature have lied to you about the effects and motives of war. It’s not sacrificing yourself to be a martyr. Or conquering. Or making yourself a legacy.

War was loyalty, blood, and grit. It was dirty, and horrid, and _gut-wrenching._ Bit and bloody lips from biting too hard in determination. Aching hands from clenching your weapon too long in fear that _you could be next._ Guttural screams as you see your best friends lying on the ground, bloodied and battered and _dying._

But it's too late, you realize. Your stepson is out there, fighting for his life. He's risking his life for the greater good.

And as you see fallen demigods on the ground—they were just _kids_ , too young to face such violence and hate—you get sick to your stomach. You were always one to love a good war movie, even thought it was cool when stuff blew up, or a soldier sacrificed his life for his team. (You admit you did tear up a bit, but more in a way that it was just so _heroic_ , and you wish you could do that).

And here were children doing everything you wished you had the guts to do. Everything that the world saw as epic and exciting, but when you see it up close, close and _personal_ , all you feel is terrified, wishing that you could never experience it again. Take it all back. Be anywhere but here.

Shouting.

Burning.

Is that _flesh_?

You think of your stepson. You can't believe he's done this much for the world. If only the rest of the world had this kind of bravery, then the world would improve greatly. _It’s not bravery_ you think as you duck behind a car as a sword comes sailing towards you. _It is necessity. It is instinct to live._

You look up to see Percy battling a dragon-like monster, sword gleaming in the setting sun as he swipes it clean through her neck. It makes a sickening sound, goo and blood splattering on his face. He looks like a villain, green eyes glowing with power as he swiftly moves to the next monster.

_Slice. Scream. Clang._

Then he looks quickly to the left, where two boys are being cornered by a giant, and a fierce look of protectiveness crosses his dark features. He lunges to help, slicing through the monster in seconds. He grabs the boys’ arms, helping them stand. A soft look as he checks to make sure they are okay, before lunging back into action.

It ends quicker than you can process, but you note the strength and devotion in your stepson’s eyes.  
Heroism.

It’s the closest, most real experience you’ve seen of it. A roughness. A softness. A complexity. Gone within seconds.

 _No,_ you muse, _you didn't know war at all_. You realize that no one does until they experience it. _Live_ it.

Yes, you've lived it, and you wish you didn't, yet you're glad you did.

You understand now.

You understand that war isn't just fruitless violence or something so distant that it seems fictitious.

No. War is real. Very, very real, and it's taken you forever to realize that.

War was real. It's a battle against good and evil. Standing up for your beliefs. Standing up and protecting family. It was about love.

The whole purpose of war was fighting for what you love, protecting those around you.

Just like the heroes around him were doing.

So when you and Sally received the call, you knew that you were in for it again. You wouldn't be there physically, no. You would be thousands of miles away from this war, but you knew it was real. Very real. And your throat closed up, and you were getting a bit dizzy, and you couldn't imagine seven kids battling a Greek Titan—Gaia for that matter.

But they had to be all right, you urge yourself to think. Good always wins, always in the books…but then you slowly start to realize that movies and books have lied to you about war before. This was the real world, where happy endings weren't assured.

But you fought the thought. Your stepson—no, _son_ —would come home with his friends. They had to. For you knew that they were heroes, and heroes didn't fall without protecting their friends and family—they'd protect each other, they'd have each other's backs. You were certain of it.

But the pessimistic side of your mind whispered, _this isn't fiction. This is real life._

This is war.


End file.
